


Resurfacing

by PepperSpicedLatte



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: But Emily just loves her very much, Dissociation, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, JJ is an angel, Not an actual angel, Suicidal Thoughts, This is sad and then it gets a little happier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperSpicedLatte/pseuds/PepperSpicedLatte
Summary: She learnt a long time ago that no one could save her but herself. Yet here she is being swallowed up by everything she’s been through. The memories, the images, they make the world around her muffled and distorted. They make her feel unreal, as if she is an illusion or a ghost. They make the world feel like an echoing empty chamber, one she is no longer a part of.Maybe she really is dead and this is her penance for all her wrongdoing. To be alone. Forever.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	Resurfacing

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? This is 2:30am ramblings.

It’s dark. The only light being from the open blinds from the street outside. But the faint streetlights don’t hit her as she sits there, unmoving. To the untrained eye she isn’t breathing, there are no twitches in her face, no movement in her hand as she grips her glass so tightly it could shatter. Her eyes are open though, staring into the darkness of the room. 

How long has she been there? She doesn’t know. What time is it? Where is she. What is her name? She doesn’t know those either. All she can think about is how she’s drowning in her memories, in her emotions. From the outside she may seem calm, still, almost peaceful. But inside she is screaming for help, her voice raw and unrelenting. 

But no one hears her. No one ever hears her. She’s gotten so good over the years at hiding who she is, hiding what she feels that sometimes she forgets herself. She’s tricked herself into believe the lies she’s fabricated, that’s she’s strong willed, capable, in damages by anything. But in fact it is the complete opposite. She is a scared, lost child wandering around the world after being neglected again and again. 

She deserves to drown. She deserves to be lost in the dark forever, she knows that. But just once does she want someone to reach out, to hold her, to save her. 

She learnt a long time ago that no one could save her but herself. Yet here she is being swallowed up by everything she’s been through. The memories, the images, they make the world around her muffled and distorted. They make her feel unreal, as if she is an illusion or a ghost. They make the world feel like an echoing empty chamber, one she is no longer a part of. 

Maybe she really is dead and this is her penance for all her wrongdoing. To be alone. Forever. 

Time passes too quickly and too slowly, an illusion just like herself. She doesn’t hear the faint knock on the door, the rattle and click of a key and the quiet voice calling out. She doesn’t hear the soft footfalls of shoes on wood, the turning of the door handle or the unmistakable sigh of relief. 

She doesn’t even notice as they sit down next to her, remove the glass from her hand and replace it with their own, warmer hand. She doesn’t register the way their thumb traces the back of her hand or the way they lean their head on her shoulder. 

It isn’t until the familiar scent hits her; one filled with vanilla, sandalwood and lemon does she finally realise that there is someone in the darkness with her. 

It doesn’t make sense at first. The only other person who should be here looms out of the darkness with rage and roughness. She remembers those callous hands well, remembers his paralizing energy, the sickly poisonous lull of his voice as if he were a siren and she were but a mere sailor. He’s always there, waiting for her, willing for her to slip ever further under the water with him. He is he one with his hand on her throat, pressing harder and harder as she goes deeper and deeper until-

“Emily.” 

That is not his voice. That is the voice of an angel. Of a sweet singing lark who rises in the early morning. Just as that isn’t his scent. That isn’t him breathing next to her, holding her hand. It isn’t him. 

“Emily, sweetheart, can you hear me?” 

There is the voice again, the pressure from the shoulder shifting as they look over at her. She feels their hand on her cheek, warm and almost burning against the cold of her skin. She could never get warm even before, but now it feels as if she is continuously submerged in the icy depths; as if she’s a cold slab on a morgue table. 

But she nods, even just a little because she can hear them. She can hear them through the darkness and the pressure. She can hear them over her own screaming. 

Maybe they’re an angel sent to save her from her damnation. 

Does she even deserve saving?

The soft kiss to the side of her head tells her that yes, she does deserve saving. 

And then she is gasping for air as if she broke the surface of the water, and everything is coming back all at once. Where she is, who she is, who the person is beside her. And it’s overwhelming and terrifying because she was so closing to drowning. She can’t stop shaking and yet they never let go of her. 

She finds herself curled up on their lap with her head rested into the crook of their neck. Their arm is around them, holding them, protecting them whilst the other is stroking through her hair. They whisper things to her, things she still has yet to understand, but she finally finds the strength to whisper back. 

“JJ.”

The whispers stop for a moment and she silently pleads for them not too. But she feels the grip on her tighten, the hand leaving her hair to join the other in keeping her close, saving her. 

“I’m here Emily, you’re safe.” 

A name that does not feel tainted on her lips. Instead it feels beautiful, refreshing, loving. She knows who she is because of the way she says her name. 

“Don’t leave me.”

The pleading is no longer silent. It’s loud, deafening, terrifying to her own ears at how scared she truly sounds. If she’s alone then he will be there, and if he’s there she will drown. 

“I will never leave you, I promise.” 

How can she believe such a promise when so many people have left? They disappear one by one, leaving her on the dark to spend eternity alone. They take a peice of her soul with her every time they go until she is little more but a shell. 

She really is a ghost. 

But she believes it, because it has been spoken by an angel. Only an angel could glow as she does, can shine a path through the dark, could make her feel safe when she is so very terrified of herself and the world around her. She believes it because it’s JJ and that never needs any further explanation. 

“I love you.”

A confession of sorts, though they have confessed such things before when they have been flooded by light and noise. Through looks, and actions, and heated kisses and tangled bodies. It is different in the dark and silence. This is where everything is much more terrifying and real. Where the balance between what is real and what is fake is blurry and where she is standing on the cliffs edge, so close to dying. So close to shutting her eyes and no longer existing. 

“I love you too.” 

And she must, she thinks. She must love her to come and find her, to sit with her in the dark whilst she’s drowning and hold her until she resurfaces. She must love her to want to save her from him and not let her spend forever alone in the void. She must love her. 

It is not enough to save her, not completely. There will still be days, weeks, months where she finds herself submerged once more. Where she is screaming for help and yet no one seems to hear. Where she wants her suffering to end because sometimes it is simply too much. But, it is enough to save her today and that is all that matters. 

A ray of sunlight hits her, one only an angel could summon. It is warm, pure and full of never ending love that she could have only dreamt of having. 

She’s safe. 

She’s home.


End file.
